Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (48 page)

My hands wound their way around the back of his neck and gripped the top of his head as he ground my hips down against the hardness in his jeans. Just as I leaned my forehead against his to sigh into his lips, a loud cough jerked me out of the whirlwind I'd stumbled into it.

My hands dropped away from Caleb's face and I turned just in time to see my dad shuffling toward the refrigerator. Caleb jolted and hustled out from between my legs to put some space between us. He ran a hand over his head as if to smooth the hair he didn't really have there and my dad cast a wary glance over his shoulder at us.

"Don't mind me," he chuckled. "Just needed something to drink."

"Sorry, Dad," I murmured and bit down on my bottom lip as I slid off the counter.

My dad met my eyes briefly before turning his attention to Caleb. "Where are you planning on sleeping tonight?"

Caleb cleared his throat roughly. "The couch."

"Good," he nodded and shut the fridge door as he turned to us with a water bottle in his hand. "Probably best to take it slow, huh?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but for the life of me, I couldn't find any words to say. My dad just waved goodnight and disappeared around the stairwell. When my eyes found Caleb again, he was staring slack-jawed after my dad and he shook his head.

"Wow."

"Yeah," I laughed. "That wasn't embarrassing or anything."

Instead of responding, he tucked his hands deep in his pockets and grinned at me.

"I should, um," I swallowed hard, already backpedalling toward the same hallway my dad had just disappeared to. "I should get to bed. I'll see you in the morning?"

"I'll be here," he nodded. "Sweet dreams, Iz."

I waved awkwardly because there was no way in hell I was getting out of this gracefully and I scrambled up the stairs, practically running my dad over in the process, and didn't stop until my old bedroom door was shut safely behind me.

Isabelle

My eyes fluttered open and I buried my face in my pillow with a groan. God, I felt like I'd just tried to run a marathon—tried and miserably failed, that is—with heavy limbs, exhausted muscles, and a pounding headache.

The real problem was that I'd spent the night tossing and turning on my mattress, twisting the sheets around myself until my head spun, and doing everything in my power to keep my body right in this bed. All night I'd waged war with myself—stay in bed or race down to the living room to...do what, I didn't know. I just knew I wanted to find out. I just knew I wanted to be wherever Caleb was.

I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand and blew out an exasperated sigh.

I'd already let Cooper outside a few hours ago, so I wasn't expecting to see him waiting by my door or anything, but when I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I certainly didn't expect to see my dad and Caleb sitting at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of coffee in front of them and my dog right at Caleb's side, basking in the attention as Caleb scratched behind his ears with his free hand.

"Dirty rotten traitor," I muttered under my breath and cocked an eyebrow at my dog as I headed into the kitchen.

Determined to keep my distance and stand my ground, I refused eye contact with all three men in the kitchen.

"Morning, Isabelle," my dad called out to me softly.

My heart tugged a little at his voice, so much weaker than it used to be, and I threw him a quick smile over my shoulder.

Then another equally and just as painfully familiar voice called out to me too: "Morning, Iz."

My eyes darted over to the other side of the table, where Caleb sat stoically. Was he waiting for me to climb into his lap or something? High-five him for pushing me up against the kitchen island last night and sort of having his way with me? Admit I'd spent the better part of the night wrapped up in my comforter wishing I was wrapped up in him instead?

"Hi," I replied back lamely. Even I knew that was weak, but what else was I supposed to do?

But when I dared another glance his way, my lips curved downward. The Caleb I remembered, the same one who could've easily charmed the panties off a nun if he'd wanted to, wasn't here right now.

All the swagger, the cool confidence, the cocky smirk—none of that was present at the table. Instead, his lips were pressed together in a thin line and he clutched his free hand around his coffee mug like his life depended on it as his eyes anxiously searched for something I knew I couldn't give him.

"So, uh," Caleb cleared his throat roughly and ruffled the fur on the top of Cooper's head. "I can't stick around too long this morning because I have to get back to the shop, but one of my guys should be here any minute to take his shift."

I nodded and opted to chew on the inside of my cheek instead of verbally responding. That just seemed safer.

"Jared's good just hanging out in the driveway," Caleb went on and his eyes only shifted to me once as he spoke. "You'll never even know he's there unless you need to go somewhere today."

I finally found my voice and lifted an eyebrow. "And he's gonna spend the night in the driveway too?"

Some of that anxiousness slipped away as Caleb's lips quirked up into a smile. "Nah. I'll be back when I'm done at the shop for the day."

With plans to spend the night again. Of course he wouldn't let any of 'his guys' spend the night here—he wanted that shift all to himself.

"That sounds like a good plan," my dad told him. "And feel free to take the guest room tonight. You're more than welcome to it."

The underlying sentiment, of course, being that Caleb was welcome to the
guest
room, not necessarily
my
room. Thanks, Dad.

That was about as far as this discussion got before those tell-tale sounds of an engine roaring filled the driveway and Caleb was up on his feet a half a second later, stalking toward the front door with Cooper hot on his heels.

He peered through the window right next to the door, ever on high alert, and after finding what he was looking for, his shoulders relaxed and he reached down to scratch the top of Cooper's head.

"It's just Jared," Caleb told us from over his shoulder. "I should get going."

The moment it clicked that he was leaving, and that I wouldn't see him for the rest of the day, I moved toward the front door before I could stop myself. Caleb glanced back at me in surprise as he slipped on his shoes and reached for his keys; I couldn't really blame him. I'd been running hot and cold on him so much I had half a mind to ask him why he even bothered with me in the first place.

Today was just a day I just didn't want to think about. Any other year, I'd be so hungover, I'd sleep the whole day away until I finally got out of bed long enough to eat something and drink just enough more so I could pass out for the rest of the night. I didn't have that luxury today because I'd spent my night in quicksand instead.

As if he could read my mind, Caleb reached out until his fingertips caught my elbow and pulled me closer with gentle movements. I was falling recklessly right into that quicksand again without a net and without a care for consequence.

"Hey," I deflected, immediately darting my eyes down to our feet. It was just easier if I didn't look at him. Looking at him brought up a whole slew of shit I didn't want to touch right now. "Thank you for staying last night. I'm sure you had plenty of better things to do—people to see, that sort of thing, but I appreciate you keeping an eye on things. That means a lot, Caleb."

He eyed me carefully as if he was mentally picking apart each word and sorting through the bullshit syllable by syllable. Then he nodded, but his blue eyes still bored into me with the kind of measured intensity that had me shifting anxiously from side to side.

"You weren't keeping me from anything or anyone," Caleb murmured, but that last word was pointed and marked specifically to send a message.

There's no one else.

I swallowed hard, mentally repeating a different mantra:
he only wants you now because he can't have you.

And when he spoke again, I just wasn't mentally prepared to handle it.

"I was thinking, Iz," he flashed me a quick, nervous smile and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe you'd want to come to the shop and spend the day with me? It wouldn't have to be right now. I know you just got up, but I'd really like to spend some time with you today whenever you're ready."

It was right on the tip of my tongue to ask him what spending the day with him would all entail, but I never got that far. My knee-jerk reaction was to shake my head as quickly as possible.

"Doesn't that kind of fly in the face of you not wanting Theo Wallace to see me with you? What if he comes back?"

That was the only straw I had to grasp, but I held on as tight as I could.

His lips quirked up and once again, he saw right through me. "Weren't you the one who told me last night I can't spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder?"

There'd be a smart-ass response somewhere if I could just stop looking at his lips long enough to find it.

"I don't want to hide," Caleb went on softly. "And you'll be safe there. But you already knew that."

Yeah. I did. And that safety was almost enough to propel me right into his arms and anywhere else he wanted to take me. Almost.

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled long enough to find my bearings. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

It was hard not to flinch when his face fell in disappointment, but what else was I supposed to do? Let myself get swept away in him again? The man standing in front of me had hurt me more than anyone had ever hurt me before in my life and handing him the opportunity to do it again on a platter was as reckless as it was asinine.

Caleb steeled an impassive expression on his handsome face and nodded tightly like he'd fully expected that response. I guessed I had to give him a little credit for trying.

"Okay," he nodded again and his thumb brushed my cheek for just a second. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Then he stepped away, giving me the space I needed, waved goodbye to my dad still in the kitchen, and walked out the front door.

Several moments passed before I felt like I could finally breathe again and I stumbled backward, fumbling for some sort of reprieve I knew I'd never find. Cooper brushed up against my legs, no doubt alerted by my mood, and he swept his tongue up the outside of my hand. It wasn't enough, but I patted his head anyway. When I turned on my heel to head toward the kitchen again, I skidded in my tracks, stopped short by my dad's presence at the table.

He lifted an eyebrow as he took a sip from his coffee mug and gestured for me to sit down in the chair Caleb had vacated. I opted for the chair across from him instead.

"Let me guess," I sighed. "You heard all that, huh?"

"Every word," he smiled sadly. "You want some coffee?"

I shook my head, but he got up anyway with wooden movements and headed for the coffee pot.

"So you're not going to see him at all today?" he asked me over his shoulder as he poured me a cup.

I sighed again and rubbed my temples. "No, I'm not."

"Why?"

I shot him an exasperated glare over my shoulder. "I thought you heard everything. It's not a good idea, Dad."

"Yeah, I heard you say that, but why isn't it a good idea?"

"Because, Dad," I bit out through clenched teeth. "It's just not."

"So," he told me as he set a cup of coffee in front of me. "It's
not
a good idea to spend this day with the
one
person who understands what today means to you more than anyone else? Did I get that right?"

Ugh. Why did he always have to be right?

I snatched my coffee mug up and hightailed it out of the kitchen with Cooper dutifully behind me.

"Thanks for your help, Dad," I called over my shoulder as I took the stairs two-by-two.

When I closed my bedroom door behind me, my hands were shaking. My chest was tightening, but this wasn't the onslaught of another panic attack. No, this was something a little bit worse. This was guilt. Cold, hard, slap-you-in-the-face guilt.

My trembling fingers groped my purse for my sketchbook and I curled up on the bed with Cooper right at my feet as I let the pencil do all the thinking for me. Long strokes of lead scratched across the paper, but I had no control over it. The image took shape whether I liked it or not, whether I was exorcising demons or summoning them, and when I finally dropped the pencil and took a breath, my eyes fell to the thick, dark lines.

Eyes.

Disappointed, grieving, heartbroken eyes.

Eyes that haunted my dreams and followed me through all these years of emptiness and loneliness. Eyes that held the key to both the happiest and worst moments of my life. Eyes that had never let me go.

I'd spent so much time pushing all these feelings away since I'd come back and last night, it felt good to just
feel
without wasting so much time overthinking everything all the time.